


Dearly Detested

by Seicchanart



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, Two Face!Rachel AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27897661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seicchanart/pseuds/Seicchanart
Summary: Cranechel drabble collection for all of my drabbles under 1000 words
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Rachel Dawes
Comments: 11
Kudos: 11





	1. Necktie

Rachel let out a frustrated groan and smacked her hand against the wall. She had to restrain herself from throwing the useless piece of trash on the ground and stomping on it. The “useless piece of trash” being a tie. 

She’d been trying to correctly tie it around her neck for a while now, standing in front of her own office. Carl had helped her earlier, but while nervously playing with it she had loosened it again. And now here she was, close to a breakdown.

She hadn’t been the assistant DA for long, and she was still very insecure of herself. She knew what her plans were and what she had to do to achieve them, but the job was stressful and she doubted herself more often than not.

“Do you need any help?”

Rachel flinched, as the clear, deep voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She turned around to face a man she didn’t know.

The first thing she noticed about him were his brilliant blue eyes, and she felt herself blush at the intense look in them. _Stupid. Stop that. What is he going to think about you?_ The second thing she noticed was that he was a bit shorter than her. His hair was a dark brown, parted in the middle and carefully styled. He was _beautiful_ , with long lashes and plush lips, a stark contrast to his shabby suit.

Rachel coughed. 

“W… What?”

 _Wow_. Who was he? She’d never seen him here before.

The man in front of her smiled, and Rachel immediately noticed the dimple in his cheeks. How could a man be this gorgeous?

“I asked you if you needed any help. You looked like you’re struggling.”

She averted her eyes and began playing with her fingers to calm herself down. Why was she so nervous?

“Oh. Well, I don’t really know how to tie a tie, to be honest…”

She let out a nervous laugh and looked back at him. There was something twinkling in his eyes and Rachel swallowed hard. What was wrong with her? She was probably sweating.

“I see. Well.”, he tugged on his own tie for a quick moment and Rachel stared at his hand, trying to discern if it would be smaller than hers. “I wear ties everyday, so I could help you, if that’s alright with you.”

She nodded without a second thought, and then blushed again when she realized. His smile twitched and she wondered what he was thinking. He stepped closer and Rachel’s breath hitched in her chest. It really didn’t seem like she’d be able to calm down any time soon.

He grabbed her tie, and while slinging it around her neck, she felt his fingers softly brush against her skin. She could barely hold back a shiver. With swift, practiced movements he tied the fabric around her neck, and then pulled it shut. It was too tight, and Rachel felt her body heating up. 

He stepped back and it felt like a magnet being pulled away from her, another magnet. She sighed and immediately hoped he didn’t hear.

“Well.”, he said, and she couldn’t help but think how nice his voice sounded, and that she could listen to it all day. “Have a nice day.”

He turned around to leave, and too late did Rachel realize that she hadn’t thanked him. And that she still didn’t know who he was.

“Wh- What’s your name?”, she called out to him, a bit too loud; still feeling the heat rushing through her body.

“Dr. Jonathan Crane.”, he turned around, and he was still smiling at her.

“I’m -”

“Miss Rachel Dawes.”, he interrupted her, silky smooth. “I know. Well, be seeing you.”

Dr. Crane left with soft steps and Rachel was left staring after him. _Hopefully soon._

(Later, while talking to her superior Carl Finch, she paled at what he told her about the man she’d just met. Despite knowing nothing about him, she felt her stomach sink in disappointment. She didn’t wear ties anymore after that.)


	2. The prettiest, nicest man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Face Au again

When Rachel stepped back into the apartment, she almost tripped and fell right on the floor. With some lucky flailing, she managed to get a hold of the doorframe and succeeded in holding herself up. She yelped, while she was still thinking she’d fall, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. Then, she looked down.

Jon. Of course.

He was lying on the floor, right in front of the door. Sprawled out on his back. For some reason, it made her angry.

“What are you doing?”, she said icily, and tapped him with her foot (she had to hold herself back not to kick him).

He looked at her, turning his head slowly. Was she tripping or did he look almost sad?

“I am lying on the floor.”

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“Duh, idiot. Why?”

She walked around him, letting her bad fall to the ground. Then, she took off her jacket and shoes and sat down on the couch. She looked over at him; he was now staring at the ceiling.

For some time, there was silence between them. She was just about to tell him to fuck off then and go away, when Jon opened his mouth again.

“Rachel?”

She started chewing on her lips. She really was getting annoyed at him.

“What?”

Jon's gaze was still fixed to the ceiling, and he sounded almost… insecure when he spoke.

“Do you think I am evil?”

She furrowed her brows. What was that about?

“What? Why?”

Was he developing a _conscience_? That couldn’t be.

“Do you?”

“Well”, Rachel trailed off. Did he really feel bad? What had happened. “Of course. You’re pretty evil.”

Jon jolted up, now sitting and Rachel flinched. _Wrong answer?_

“Right?! I think so too! Thank you.”

Now she was back to furrowing her brows. She stood up.

“Jon, what in the world is this about?”

He stood up too now, walking closer to her. With a few steps, he was by her side and took her hand in his. She clenched her jaw, but let him continue. He kissed her hand and then smiled at her.

“Nothing much, really. I just met a girl today and gave her the plushie she dropped. She called me the ‘prettiest, nicest man she’d ever met’”

Rachel almost laughed.

“Prettiest _and_ nicest? Wow.”

His face dropped again and he put a hand on his forehead dramatically.

“Right? We both know only one of these things is true! The audacity of that girl!”

Now, she did laugh.

“You think you’re pretty?”

He winked at her and her heart skipped a beat at this. She hated how much he seemed to be in control of it.

“No, I _know_ I am. And you do too.”

With that, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, the one with the scar.

She kicked him, now.


	3. Something akin to Domesticity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two face au musings

Since when has it been like this?

When the Batman’s fist connects to his face, the only thing Jonathan can think about is how they don’t have any milk left.

He hears a gunshot then, and there she is. Miss Dawes - Rachel - stands amid the smoke, a gun in one hand and her taser in the other.

(The only thing he can think about now is how pretty she looks with blood splattered on her cheek, her face twisted in anger. Not directed at him, this time.)

.

When he wakes up in his - their - bed that evening, he has a headache and she is lying next to him, asleep. He turns his head to the nightstand, and sure enough, a bottle full of sleeping pills stands atop it. She must’ve slipped him some.

(How the tables have turned, he thinks.)

She looks peaceful like that, for the first time in quite a while. Jonathan brushes a strand of hair out of her face and gently strokes her scar.

(His heart aches. He ignores it.)

.

This is an experiment of sorts. He wants to know how much she can spiral, how far she’d be willing to go. She’s interesting, to him, she always has been. He’s been fascinated since day one.

(In a twisted way, he knows that. Doesn’t make it any less earnest, though.)

He isn’t sure why _she_ stays with _him_ , but she’s here. And he wants to make sure it stays that way. To make sure the experiment can go on, of course.

.

They sit in the living room and Jonathan is deeply buried in his work when he notices Rachel is chewing on her lip. She’s thinking about something. She always does that when she thinks.

It takes a bit of prodding, but he gets it out of her.

And when she tells him she knows who the Batman is (and has been thinking about telling him for a long time) he feels triumphant and numb at the same time. She trusts him, somehow, a little bit, and Jonathan’s stomach turns at this. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever had someone trust him before.

(He knows he will betray that trust someday, one way or the other. He’s sure she knows this, too.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me have this ok


	4. The only time I ever see her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel Dawes is dead, yet she stands above him, in front of his bed.
> 
> Post TDK. Can be read as a sequel to my fic "A Scarecrow's Sorrow", but you can perfectly understand it either way, I think.
> 
> Emetophobia warning

Rachel Dawes is dead, yet she stands above him, in front of his bed. He sees her every night. Unmoving, quiet. Staring at him, shadow blurring her face.

(Does he even remember what it looked like?)

He cannot move. Can barely breathe. Jonathan lies in his bed, staring at the ceiling to avoid looking at her. Her brown hair dangles inches above his face.

Why is she haunting him like this? It’s not like he had anything to do with her death. Not like it was warranted for him to feel guilty. For him to _mourn_.

(He had tried to kill her himself, _twice_.)

Jonathan swallows dry and squeezes his eyelids shut. He knows he won’t get much sleep.

.

The next day is all the same as always. The toast he has for breakfast is stale, and he feels empty.

Jonathan looks over to the spot next to his bed, but she isn’t there. Of course she isn’t. Still, he feels as if her green eyes are boring into him, from somewhere.

(Somewhere he would like to be. He shakes his head to rid himself of the thought.)

He doesn’t hold any affection for Miss Dawes, nor has he ever. It’s a mystery to him, why she’s here, why she’s with _him_.

.

She’s back that night. Jonathan wonders if he should sleep on the sofa from now on. When he imagines her standing above him there, in his dirty living room, he almost laughs. Almost.

He doesn’t know if he’s imagining it, but he could almost swear she is breathing next to him. Long, deep breaths, mirroring his own. But it is raining tonight, and the tapping of the falling raindrops are loud on his window. He can’t hear clearly.

He tries to turn away from her, to face the wall, but he finds he can’t move tonight either. He’s completely paralyzed.

Is it fear he feels? If yes, fear of what? He doesn’t have anything to fear.

He didn’t kill Miss Dawes. Ghosts aren’t real. And even if they were, Jonathan thinks it’s highly unlikely her ghost would haunt _him_ of all people.

(It’s not like he had ever been important to the woman, in any way, shape or form. The thought fills him with a strange bitterness.)

.

Jonathan’s next plan fails, like they always do. He fights the Batman for a short while, but manages to run away. When he passes out in a back alley, the last thought that crosses his mind is that she isn’t here today.

When he wakes up, his head aches and his whole body hurts. He vomits into a trashcan and feels more pathetic than he ever has.

.

After a few days, he finds himself in a graveyard, in front of her grave. He had looked it up, researched where she was lying. He doesn’t know why, and now he stands here. It’s a simple gravestone, but it looks very expensive. Bruce Wayne had financed it, that much he had gathered through his research.

(He briefly wonders about the nature of the relationship Wayne and Miss Dawes had shared, but quickly pushes the thought away. It doesn’t matter to him.)

Her name is on it, of course it is. In a swirly, cursive font “Rachel Dawes” is engraved here, together with her date of birth and her death date. It has only been a month.

Jonathan can’t help but think that the font doesn’t fit her at all. He would’ve chosen a different one. He coughs, as if to pull her attention to him.

“Stop haunting me. You’re distracting.”

His voice is ice cold and way more bitter than he intended it to be. He feels ridiculous, talking to a stone like that.

.

She doesn’t do him the favor, of course. She’s back that evening, still standing above him in the dark of his room.

(He has considered leaving the light on several nights now, but he doesn’t think he _wants_ to see her face.)

Miss Dawes is quiet as always, but he could swear something is different tonight. The ticking of his clock is the only noise in the room, and Miss Dawes is swaying slightly from side to side. It’s such a minimal movement he doesn’t know if it’s even there.

He feels as if they are the only people in the universe.

Another noise fills the room, and he thinks she’s crying; yet his cheeks are the ones getting wet. She _is_ moving, now. She’s leaning down, and Jonathan thinks she’s going to kill him.

(He would be willing to go with her, he thinks.)

She presses a kiss on his mouth, and the next thing Jonathan knows is that he wakes up to rays of sunlight coming through the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This had nothing to do with this, but yesterday my boyfriend's christmas gift for me arrived; it's Scarecrow Year One. I already knew most of the story, but I am happy to have it in physical form.


	5. A Pearl in my Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan looks at her like a deer caught in headlights and Rachel swallows heavily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for hints of ptsd/mentions of trauma.  
> two face!rachel au.

_It’s just that I fell in love with a war_  
_Nobody told me it ended_  
_And it left a pearl in my head_  
_And I roll it around_  
_Every night, just to watch it glow_  
_Every night, baby, that’s where I go_

.

It all happens in a flurry. Rachel reaches out, grabs Jon’s arm. She can’t even remember why, what she was going to do, and when Jon reacts, it punches all the air out of her lungs.

Jon _flinches_ away from her, ripping his arm free from her grasp. His eyes are wide in terror, and Rachel realizes it’s the first time she touched him without warning, without him touching her first.

It’s quiet between them for the few seconds it takes Jon to calm down, and Rachel feels her stomach turn with guilt.

(It’s things like these that draw her to him; the rare moments where he’s vulnerable. The rare moments where his mask falls, where he lets her look behind it for a second. It’s involuntary, mostly, and Rachel feels bad that she likes it so much.)

“I’m not going to do anything to you.”, Rachel says, softly, and Jonathan scoffs.

“I know _that_.”

Rachel sighs at the bitterness dripping from his voice. He’s not good at talking about things like this, she knows that.

(She also knows he has no intention of changing that. She wishes she could help him, sometimes, the same way he helps her. Ground him, be his anchor, in the same way he is to her. She feels almost gross at the tenderness of her feelings.)

Jon leaves.

.

He doesn’t sleep that night, and Rachel doesn’t feel like she can, either. She watches him bury himself into his work, and it looks like he’s trying everything not to be alone with his thoughts.

(Rachel knows that feeling, she knows it way too well.)

She stands up, then, and makes tea for herself and coffee for him. It’s become routine at this point, living with him. Caring for each other, in a weird, codependent way. It’s a weird thing to get used to, and the familiarity yet distance between them leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

The tea does too, it turns out. She’s left the teabag in for too long, and Rachel sighs as she places down the coffee mug on the table in front of Jonathan. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even acknowledge her presence, or the coffee’s, for that matter.

Rachel would be mad about it, start one of their countless fights, but she is way too tired. She feels drained, even though she didn’t even work today. When she lifts her own mug to her lips, her scar starts to ache. She can barely swallow the tea, and an uncomfortable nausea rises in her stomach.

The coffee ends up turning cold.

.

They barely escape the Batman, and Rachel runs as fast as she can. She doesn’t want to go to Arkham again, but even more than that, she doesn’t want to talk to Bruce.

Jonathan is running too, next to her, but he is slower, his constitution weaker. Rachel grabs him, pulls him into an alley and hides. He is trembling in her touch, but it is raining and cold, and Rachel is frankly thinking about enough other things to worry about that.

When she’s sure Bruce has lost them, she sighs and lets go of Jon’s arm. She turns to him, opening her mouth to tease him about his fitness. The look in his eyes makes her close it again.

Jonathan looks at her like a deer caught in headlights and Rachel swallows heavily. She notices that he’s still trembling, and suddenly feels like the ground is being pulled from underneath her.

“Jon..?”

Her voice is barely audible in the loud downpour of the rain, but he hears her, somehow. He seems startled at first, and then he takes a step back, ripping the drenched mask from his head. He doesn’t look at her, and it is Rachel’s turn to feel frozen in place.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m fine!”, he yells, and Rachel flinches, this time.

She feels nausea bubbling up inside her again, and for some reason, she thinks about her father for a moment.

They’re both quiet, just standing in the rain. After what feels like an eternity in silence, Jon turns away from her.

“Let’s go home.”

Rachel nods, and follows him, staring at the ground. It feels awkward, the air between them, and she wonders if she’ll ever know more about him, about what troubles him, what made him the man he is now.

(Probably not, she thinks, and she has to swallow the sick feeling in her stomach.)


	6. A Dream and A Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yet another take on the basement scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a small thing to get me back into the flow! This is heavily based around priama's Nowhere Land (https://archiveofourown.org/works/24779989/chapters/59920735) which is my favorite fic in the world

The gas burns in her nose and lungs, and Rachel’s vision starts to blur. Jonathan - Crane - The Scarecrow stands in front of her, steps towards her and she screams. His blue eyes drill right through her, and she thinks about the boy he once was, the endearing melancholy that had once been in those eyes. 

.

Rachel dreams. It’s not a dream, of course, not really. She’s not asleep after all. She’s poisoned with Crane’s toxin, and her brain produces all sorts of scary pictures. Rachel lashes out in panic, until she feels tired, feels like there’s lead pumping through her veins.

The Scarecrow is above her, mask crawling with maggots, and she screams again. There is a disruption, and he disappears, and suddenly Rachel feels like she’s all alone in the world. It scares her like nothing else, and yet she feels too paralyzed to move, too paralyzed to make any noise.

Her head rolls to the side, slowly, and there he stands. Jonathan still is as skinny as she remembers him, and his brilliant eyes are underlined with heavy dark circles. She knows he’s not really here, he couldn’t be. He’s an adult now, not the messy, lonely teen she remembers. An adult that had just poisoned her.

Rachel cries and her vision fades to black.

.

She has to go through a few more feverish visions, endless moments of panic until she is fine again. The Batman is scary, of course, especially under the influence of Crane’s toxin, but even that isn’t enough to bring her down.

When Rachel awakes again, her head is clear, and her fists tighten. She doesn’t feel the same fear, nor the same sadness she had in her feverish state. The only thing she feels now is anger, and determination.

Rachel Dawes leaves the house to bring down the boy who was once her friend. The man who is now a monster.

Rachel Dawes leaves the house because she has to protect the city, no matter what.

(Because her worst fear isn’t Jonathan or the Scarecrow, or even Batman. Her worst fear is this wretched city finally collapsing.)


End file.
